


Mistletoe? More like MistleFOE

by seoyoff



Series: who let these kids have a youtube channel [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: And she's 20, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aromantic John Andre, Attempted Mistletoe Trope, Because I'm a sucker for a happy ending, Briefly Exploited Daddy Kink, Briefly mentioned Jewish Maria, Christmas, Christmas Party, Hatred of eggnog, I have no tags and maybe that's an indicator of how lame this fic is, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Interior Decorating, It's in the past and very subtle, Mentioned Racism, Multi, Peggy should've been arrested 30 years ago, Slow Burn, Texting, Trans Alexander Hamilton, Youtuber AU, but be careful kids, but it's gross, it's so gross why do people enjoy it, peggy is a godsend, they'll get together soon i promise dfhkhs, to be fair the only eggnog i've had is the eggnog starbucks frap, uh, what happened to this christmas fic?? who knows, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-09-26 19:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17147852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seoyoff/pseuds/seoyoff
Summary: As he stepped out into the hallway, he blinked. One, to get the sleep out of his eyes, and two, to make sure that this was real. There was garland on the wall, what the hell?In which I am deeply aware that the title is dumb and these even dumber boys throw a Christmas party





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> fuckin enjoy!!!! i love y'all have something to wake up to on christmas day if you happen to be reading this on christmas day because rn it's 9:26pm on christmas eve and i've used christmas too much bye keep reading i guess

Perhaps, with Peggy’s general personality, it shouldn’t be surprising that she likes-no, _loves_ Christmas. Out of their friend group, she loves it the most, as evidenced by five years of knowing her, and thus, five Christmases where tinsel is strung, mistletoe hung, and cookies baked, all by her.

But it is.

Because for the Schuyler family, Christmas often meant parties all throughout December. Parties, meaning that they went to some other rich person’s house and the adults ate and talked while the kids lay on the floor in some upstairs room. When they got older, they were invited to the table, and a couple of times, to a _ballroom_ , owned by their aunt upstate. It was boring, filled with the pretentious upper class who snubbed their noses at Angelica and Peggy for being adopted, and black.

“Why didn’t you get a perfect one? One that fits better into the family?” A cousin from Minnesota once said to Mom, about Peggy. While Peggy was right next to them. As if she didn’t exist. In her own house!

Needless to say, that cousin wasn’t allowed to parties at the Schuyler mansion, but not many others in the family seemed to care about that comment, so she was forced to deal with a creepy cousin once removed, more than once a year.

Peggy wasn’t like Angelica, who would blow the snooty ones out of the water with her wits and grace. She wasn’t like that. Peggy definitely wasn’t like Eliza, who was born into the family, didn’t have to work for their acceptance. Eliza was half Korean, half white, the most patient and generous, intelligent. The golden child. Most of the time, especially when more children were born and adopted, she was pushed to the side.

Which, in Peggy’s case, was perfect.

Like Eliza, Peggy wasn’t much for the spotlight. That was Angelica’s role, and most recently, the triplets’. But unlike Eliza, Peggy wasn’t Mother Teresa behind the scenes. Quite the opposite, in fact.

While her sisters were off painting nails in their bedrooms, Peggy was downstairs, hiding under tablecloths, wreaking havoc. Peggy was the one who spiked the punch and watched the guests slowly deteriorate. She was the one outside in the freezing cold, scrounging for the fuse box and turning all the lights off. She took the shit that they gave her and wasn’t bitter because of it-she made it into something new, and into some of the best memories of her life. Her parents always knew it was her, but pretended not to-it was the only source of real entertainment at those parties.

So yeah, Peggy loved Christmas, and originally, entering college, wanted nothing more than to continue the havoc for the people she would eventually be snubbed by in favor of the dangerous confidence Angelica had, the coal-hot kindness of Eliza. But she wasn’t.

Instead, she met people outside of her immediate family that saw her as not only her own individual person, but loved and appreciated her as one. So she took that care, that love, and friendship, considered it, and again, turned it into the best thing she could. Candy canes were made, ugly sweaters worn. Most of all, she gave back. Presents, sure, but also just more love. It was in the air, just as much as the cold.

Of course, it wasn’t that she dropped the pranks altogether. Peggy wouldn’t be Peggy if she did. Actually, the pranks must’ve doubled, with the creative support she had these days from her blog-or more recently, her Twitter. Tumblr’s going downhill these days.

Which was why, on a Saturday in December, she breaking into John and Alex’s apartment. Why? To decorate it, obviously. As she stepped into the hallway, she curled her lip as she noticed the lack of… Anything, really. _They don’t even have a tree, the fuck?_

She has a _lot_ of work to do.

 

* * *

 

John didn’t have words. Instead, he set down his bag and silently looked around as Junior ran up to meet him, patting her head before hanging up his coat.

“What the _fuck_ ?” 

Or, maybe he did. They might’ve been the only words, but they were the best ones to describe his shock. He had stepped out of the apartment around noon, went to the shelter, grabbed lunch down the street, and came home to this.

This, being what could only be described as a Christmas explosion. The previously undecorated, normal apartment, had been changed into one that could’ve been pulled straight from a Hallmark movie.

Maybe he should start filming.

 

* * *

 

Alex hadn’t gotten the most sleep the night before. He’d woken up around 11:00, fed the dog, had breakfast, said goodbye to John as he left for the shelter, then went straight back to sleep. Continuing with that little timeline, he was woken up by some ear-splitting yell sometime in the afternoon. Alex picks up his phone, wincing at the brightness of it in his dark room. 3:24 PM.

_It’s too fucking early for this._

Anyway, about that yell. He should probably investigate that. Was John home yet? It had sounded like him, and he could now hear talking outside his room. Was that… Peggy?

As he stepped out into the hallway, he blinked. One, to get the sleep out of his eyes, and two, to make sure that this was real. There was _garland_ on the wall, what the hell?

“Alex! Welcome back to the land of the living. I’m surprised that you slept through all of this.” Peggy waves from the living room, decked out with tinsel and a tree. A whole ass tree, that Alex slept through the setup of. He notes, however, that the tree is undecorated.

“Wait, you _slept_ through this?” John’s incredulous voice directs his gaze away from the undecorated tree. He’s filming, unsurprisingly.

“I uh, I guess?” Alex runs a hand through his hair, pausing as he thought about something. “So, Peggy, you checked in my room why?”

“I wanted to decorate it, but after I saw you were home, I just let you sleep. You looked adorable. John, do you want pictures?”

John, however, wasn’t paying attention (To Alex’s delight. John already had too many pictures of him sleeping in weird places. Which, now that Alex is thinking about it, is weirdly non-platonic. Or not weirdly, they’ve always been Not Platonic™.) and instead looked like he was about to sprint down the hallway. Honestly, Alex couldn’t tell if he was excited or horrified. Probably some combination of both.

“Well, why don’t we go see John’s room? I put so much work into it, after all.” Peggy grins, leading down the hallway, down to John’s closed door. She opens the door slowly, before stepping inside and collapsing onto the bed.

The room looked… Normal.

Nothing was out of place. No garland, no tinsel… Nothing. Just John’s wire bed, his drawer, his political posters, and pride flag. Even the cactus (a gift from Eliza) was untouched.

Admittedly, this was scarier than the fact that Peggy had broken into their apartment.

“Peggy, there’s nothing here.” John quirks up an eyebrow.

“That’s what you know.”

“Alright then.”

 

* * *

 

“That’s what you know.” Indeed.

John’s not exactly sure how he missed it, only now, laying on his bed, does he notice that his ceiling has some god-awful naked Santa decal in the corner. No wonder Peggy looked so smug when she left the apartment.

“Hey, Alex? Get your ass in here.” John’s too lazy to get up, but Alex is right across the hallway-he’ll hear his yelling.

Right on schedule, Alex opens the door, eyebrow raised. It’s December, and he has only a short sleeved t-shirt on, paired with some boxers. For some reason, he can’t stand sleeping in long-sleeved clothes. His cold sensitive ass, as a result, invests in layers of blankets.

“Whaddya want?”

Cutie.

“Come here and lay down, I found what Peggy put in my room.” Alex rolls his eyes but jumps onto the bed anyway, and John watches his face as Alex scans around the room, grins when Alex wrinkles his nose.

“Laurens, if this is some weird sex thing you’re leading me into under the guise of Peggy’s creepy Christmas habits-oh my _god_.” There’s a moment when Alexander finally sees Santa’s half-naked body on John’s ceiling. Junior, at that moment, decides to amble in through the open door, and jumps up onto the bed, snuggling in between the boys. Ham gives her an absent pat, distracted by the horrifying decal.

“Yeah.”

“Consider the fact that we have no ladders and she’s 5’2.” Peggy was an inch shorter than Alex, something he took increasing pride in. Honestly, John doesn’t get short people. Maybe it’s because he himself is 6’3, but there’s no point in being so angry about your shortness. John starts rubbing Junior’s back, and she settles into the sheets. His bed’s going to stink, but he doesn’t have to heart to kick her out.

“Chairs, duh.”

“No, if I stand on a chair, I can’t reach the ceiling. There’s no way.”

“I’m not sure if I should be concerned that you’ve been standing on chairs in my bedroom, or that Peggy possibly dabbles in black magic.”

“The latter. _Definitely_ the latter. Don’t ask the former.”

“What’s the former?”

“You little shit. Actually, I don’t know what else I expected. I’m not telling.”

“Someone’s gotta know. I’ll ask.”

“ _Fuck_ .”  


 

* * *

 

 

Throwing a party wasn’t originally in his plans for the week, but the apartment is decorated, Alex really doesn’t see why not.

 

**WHOREchata: I’m throwing a holiday party bc margarita graciously broke into my home and decorated it**

**Elizarda: MARGARITA SCHUYLER YOU DID W H A T**

**sneraul: lol yeah she did it while i was at the shelter and ham was napping**

**HercuBees: lol i love that alex never sleeps but when he does his house gets fuckin’ broken into**

**MCarey: amazing, really.**

**Elizarda: PEGGY I’M DISTRESSED YOU HAVE YOUNGER SIBLINGS TO BE AN EXAMPLE FOR**

**AngeliCANT: lol since when have we ever**

**LAFAYEET: ‘ow you say, ouch**

**HercuBees: laf stfu**

**MCarey: is saying ouch** **²** **offensive?? because ouch** **²** **is pretty accurate for that not sick burn**

**LAFAYEET: :((((**

**magayrita: it was for the good of christmas**

**magayrita: santa would be proud of me lol**

**Elizarda: Ah yes, everything for your sugar daddy Saint Nicholas Claus.**

**magayrita: mmm yes santa daddy wants my feet pics <3**

**HercuBees: MOVING ON MOVING ON**

**WHOREchata: Ah yes, I wanted to invite people to my HOLIDAY PARTY**

**sneraul: 911 a child is trying to throw a party in my home without my consent**

**WHOREchata: daddy :( pls**

**MCarey: What the fuck**

**sneraul: i’m going to actually murder you**

**WH **OREchata: ;)))))) you can destroy me anytime you like i’ll be good****

**sneraul: meeting you was a mistake**

**AngeliCANT: alexander hamilton just ask your boyfriend to have a party at your apartment without exposing your kinks jfc**

**WHOREchata: WE AREN’t DATING**

**sneraul: alex and i are dating as much as ur the fucking president**

**magayrita: so that means it’s a future thing?**

**Elizarda:  GASP**

**HercuBEES: actually that’s not a surprise we been knew**

**LAFAYEET: hoOoOOOoOOOOOO**

**MCarey: honestly angelica could run for president saying that she’s going to take away lesbian internet privilege and i would still vote for her**

**Elizarda: Babe :(**

**MCarey: ily <3**

**HercuBEES: remember when we were like that laf**

**LAFAYEET: non**

**AngeliCANT: thank u thank u**

**magayrita: more like thank u, next**

**WHOREchata: Anyway if y’all are done,,, december 15th, our apartment, 5:00, bring food**

**snerual: you say that like i already agreed**

**WHOREchata: You say that like it’ll even take much to convince you**

**HercuBees: k i’ll be there**

**MCarey: can I bring eggnog or is literal ham tasting water not allowed**

**LAFAYEET: I will never understand your hatred of eggnog**

**HercuBees: bb eggnog tastes like ham and there’s no ham in it,,, that shit’s gross and not allowed**

**sneural: stfu hamilton**

**Elizarda: I can’t wait until someone leaks those texts of alex calling laurens daddy tbh**

**WHOREchata: WAIT SWAOUHDFJKSH WIFE DON’T DO THIS**

**sneural: ELIZABETH SCHUYLER YOU WOULDN’T D A R E**

**LAFAYEET: lol**

**AngeliCANT: you know what i happen to have twitter opened up rn,,, i’m pretty curious about what would happen if these just,,, got out**

**sneural: You would love to know what would happen, huh? Leaking private conversations like that? Aren’t you just so curious? :)**

**WHOREchata: Schuyler I will tear you from limb to limb?? Do you know the kind of damage control I have to do everytime I make a shippy thumbnail? I am my own downfall and nobody else will be responsible for it.**

**HercuBees: is it really a private convo if it was in a groupchat tho**

**LAFAYEET: notice how jonathan never uses capital letters or punctuation except when he is deadly serious :))) someone getting nervous???**

**Magayrita: is it really possible for alexander hamilton, who weighs ten pounds soaking wet and is 3 ft off the ground, to tear angelica schuyler from limb to limb?**

**Elizarda: I love how Alex is always categorized as the hot mess,,, like sure, laurens looks put together and shit but they’re both fucking disasters lol**

**MCarey: like you have this literal tiny rat man,,, and you’ve got the rat with a bowtie on it. They both rats. No denying.**

**WHOREchata: I feel fucking attacked. Anyway. Come to the party. Clear your calendars.**

 

As the rest of the group chat confirms that yes, they’ll be there, Alex puts his phone down. There won’t be anyone else there besides the people he texted-god forbid that he actually have to interact with people he doesn’t like and completely trust-so there won’t be much, if anything, to plan out. All he has left to do is convince Laurens, which won’t be hard. Even if he acts like a festivity-hating piece of shit, John does like the holidays. He pauses to knock on John’s door, before busting in anyway.

“Oh, Jonathan!” Alex trills as he walks in, wriggling his eyebrows.

“My name isn’t Jonathan, you shit.” John scrambles up from where he was laying on the bed, an indignant look on his face.

“Oh Jacky, I’m afraid we’ve already invited the guests. We can’t cancel now, can we? Junior would adore it, she loves everyone.” If John wasn’t convinced before-which he totally was, he was just being a shit-the mention of Junior made something soften in his eyes. Score.

“Alright, fine, if only for the dog.” Alex lets himself grin at that, before jumping on the bed, and subsequently elbowing John in the stomach.

" _Fuck_ you."

"What time?"

The resulting frustrated groan is absolutely worth it.

 

* * *

 

 

Day of the party goes off without much hitch. They didn’t invite anyone else over, and by now, they have a system. Easy. How it should be, a week before Christmas. Obviously, there’ll be stress afterward-the Schuylers are going upstate tomorrow, Hercules to his cousin’s house in Maine, and Lafayette to Mt. Vernon the day after that-but right now, gathered around the fire, life’s good.

In fact, life’s so good that they forget that Peggy decorated their apartment and that she has plenty of ulterior motives when it comes to not only Christmas, but Alex and John’s apartment.

Yeah, it’s mistletoe.

It’s fucking _everywhere._

Hidden in the garland, taped to the ceiling as not to hang down and become noticeable. Hell, John found some under the kitchen table. Honestly, he’s not sure what Peggy was thinking.

“Laurens, why are you avoiding the doorway?” Alex steps into the hallway, wearing his ugly Christmas sweater. If he recalls correctly, Maria-despite being Jewish herself-had made it for him last year. The sweater’s covered in reindeer patches, and the shade of green that Alex just looks really, really good in.

“Fucking Peggy put mistletoe everywhere, I’m not dealing with this shit.” He’s not annoyed, per say, and finds it funny-of _course_ Peggy would put mistletoe everywhere, but when will their friends get it into their heads that Alex _doesn’t_ like him that way?

“Oh, brilliant. We’ll be spending the rest of our night avoiding them, I presume?” _Ouch._ OK, he might’ve just said that they’d never end up together, but John didn’t need a verbal reminder of how hopeless his crush is. Anyway, _go along with it!_

“If I give you a look, don’t come over?”

“Good plan.” They high five, right as Herc steps out from the bathroom.

“It appears,” Herc wipes his hands on his pants. “That our gracious hosts are conspiring in some off-put corner. Or waiting for the bathroom, but I’ll assume the former. Perhaps even wondering if they should announce their relationship via some well-placed mistletoe?”

“We are not dating!” They chorus simultaneously. At this point, they’ve gotten so good at it, sometimes Alex will be a good ten feet away and still be on beat. It’s an inside joke, built from years of shippers on the internet, and endless questions on live streams.

Herc laughs at that, before good-naturedly shoving past them into the living room. After a brief pause, Alex blurts out that he’s needed to use the bathroom this whole time, and so they separate.

If only the rest of the night was that easy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter! you'll see why

**** The whole situation might be a _ little _ unnecessarily cruel, but it was also fucking hilarious, so Maria has no complaints. Throughout the night, Lafayette and her both had been tasked with hanging mistletoe on every possible surface of Alex and John’s apartment, and the result so far was constant nervous glancing towards the ceilings. Oh, and they’re avoiding each other like the plague. 

Honestly, they’re both so  _ stupid _ . If they’d just gotten together by themselves already, the rest of their friend group wouldn’t have to resort to this bullshit. But, as it was, they were both very stupid and very in love, and the entire group was tired of their complaining, so.

“Maria, where do you think they keep their thumbtacks? I think putting this above the couch will be successful if John’s tall ass doesn’t notice it.” Maria’s jolted out of her reverie by Lafayette’s accent, and she turns around to see him standing on the couch. 

“Not in John’s room.” Eliza says from her corner on the couch, and she sees Hercules, walking in from the hallway, visibly cringe a little.  _ Ouch. _

It’s easy to forget that Eliza, with all her kindness, is glaringly blunt. All the Schuylers are, it’s how they were raised-by one Catherine Lee Schuyler, who was born and raised in Korea, where it’s socially  _ normal _ to be genuine, which isn’t how much people would put it, but that’s how Maria sees it. This doesn’t make Eliza any less kind, just added  _ more _ . People have layers to them, and it’s only natural.

“It’s in Alex’s, then. I think he has a corkboard in there, anywho.” Maria picks herself off the floor, sneaking out the living room and into Alex’s room. Simple furnishings, his pun poster, and political science diploma, and yes, a corkboard. Where would he put thumbtacks, in this mess?

_ On his desk, duh. _

Sure enough, there’s a box of thumbtacks on the desk, and she takes one. It’s easy to find-surprisingly, Alex’s desk is the cleanest part of the room. Cluttered, but organized. Maybe he can’t work in messy spaces.

Thumbtacks in hand, she leaves the room without incident, hands them to Lafayette, who tacks the mistletoe onto the ceiling.

Perfect.

 

* * *

“Alright fuckers, let’s play truth or dare!” Alex busts into the living room from the kitchen, hot chocolate in hand. It’s good hot chocolate, he’ll have to ask whoever made it for the recipe. He plops down on the couch next to John, because he’s tired of not being next to his best friend all night. Also, if there was mistletoe, Laurens would’ve said something-which he hadn’t.

Truthfully speaking, Alex would love to kiss John-but they were friends, and John obviously didn’t want to kiss him, and Alex could respect that-as much as it might hurt. Kissing John would be fucking magical, though. 

“Oi! Alex! You wanted to play, you start it!” Peggy’s voice jolts through his daydream, and he sits up, finding that he’d been leaning on John the entire time. Whatever. It wasn’t like he minded, as evidenced by John’s small smile. 

“Just for saying that, I’m choosing you.” There’s no question as to what Peggy’ll actually pick-dare. Truth, in her opinion, is for people who don’t do shit. 

“You gotta ask me truth or dare, idiot.” 

“I already know what you’d say anyway. So Pegs, I dare you to give me your phone and let me text one person anything I’d like.”

“Bro!” 

But as the law goes, Margarita Schuyler will never not do a dare-and thus, the phone was handed over.

Who to text, though? 

As he scrolled through the contact list, he found that he couldn’t actually tell who anyone was-it was all bizarre nicknames, like Cauliflower Ramen, who the _ fuck  _ is that? Originally, Alex had been planning on texting one of Peggy’s younger siblings, but now, he supposes, he’ll just pick someone at random. 

**magayrita: wanna sniff me in the spirit of christmas**

**Dosie: Is that a lesbian thing?? Should I know about this?**

**magayrita: it’s a yes or no**

**Dosie: Pegs please I only just had my Bisexual Awakening and I don’t know the norms**

**magayrita: yes or no**

**Dosie: PEGGY PLEASE**

At that, he thinks that poor, ‘Dosie’, whoever she is, has had enough, so he tosses the phone back in Peggy’s direction. She quickly fires off another text, before setting her phone done. From the look in her eyes, he’s going to get it, but whatever it is can’t be _ that  _ bad. 

“Alright then. Maria, truth or dare?”

“Truth, I don’t wanna get up.” Alex could see why-her and Eliza are snuggled up on the other couch together. I wish.

“Alright. What’s your favorite cheesy inspirational quote?” Not the best Peggy has ever come up with, but she’s warming up.

God, they play this game way too often.

“Uh, I guess… ‘If you don’t have a future, make one.’. It’s kind of a motto for me, especially when things aren’t going so great. But anyway, uh... “ Maria pauses, glances at Peggy, who nods.   


There are weirder things that happen.

“John, truth or dare?” Alex feels John shift into an upright position, and he almost whines at the loss of warmth. Instead, he lets his head fall into John’s lap, which is actually kind of hard-fuck John and Hercules and their stupid gym habits-but there’s a certain trick to it. Which is weird, that he knows that A, John’s thighs are hard to get comfortable on. Even stranger, B, him knowing just how to get around that. Ugh, whatever.

“Dare.”

“Alright. Look up.” Alex opens his eyes at that. What kind of dare-

_ Oh. _

Shifting out of John’s lap, he sees that despite their best efforts, there’s a little green shrub thumbtacked to their ceiling, right above them. He looks up, into John’s eyes, sees that they have the exact same thought he’s having echoed in them.

_ Shit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY ABOUT THE CLIFFHANGER but not really because if i was i wouldn't have done it,,, oh well
> 
> anyway i really liked how the cliffhanger worked out and it's 2:14am and i'm too lazy to fill it up and make it longer so just have,, short chapter. i'll make it up to y'all, promise.
> 
> pls comment! i love reading them and responding because y'all are hilarious
> 
> happy new years!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’know i actually didn’t know how to continue beyond that last chapter but then I was in the shower and it evolved into this; from 5 to 600 in -3 seconds jesus christ

John would be lying if he said he was freaking out.

Or actually, he was so freaked out that all emotions just shut down. Like when you wake up late the morning of a major exam and just lay there. He’s done that before. In the grand scheme of things, this isn’t even that big of a deal. Right?

Sure, when he’d looked up and saw the mistletoe, he’d almost screamed, because they were so, so stupid. How could both of them not see? The ceiling wasn’t even that tall. What was even crazier was the fact of: How could the rest of them not see how this could make things awkward? Alex didn’t like him, the entire night, although a joke and a game, proved that.

But then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, it was like he reached his limit. Like, sorry, I don’t have any more shits to give.

It wouldn’t be that bad. A kiss is just a kiss. People hook up all the time, and a kiss is just what it is. No strings attached. This should be fine. He turns to face Alex, eyebrow raised.

“Looks like you’ll actually get a taste of this,” John grins awkwardly. “and hey, a kiss is just a kiss. So let's get this over with?”

Alex hesitates, before nodding, and John barely hears the rest of the room as they whoop and cheer, someone’s pulled out a phone, because they’re leaning in, and _it’s just a kiss John, stop freaking out._

Then they actually connect, and John’s brain might as well just have melted, because _oh my god, he’s actually kissing Alexander Hamilton._ His chest feels like it’s floating, and for the split second the kiss actually happens, John’s a middle schooler again, fucking giddy over his first kiss.

Maybe their friends are right, maybe something will finally happen, maybe this is what tips the scale over. That this is what they’ve needed all along, an inciting incident to get together-because it shouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t at least in some way requited, which is a stupid thing to say but jeez, it’s not completely unfathomable that Alex maybe does like him back. Right?

Like all good things, it ends after what feels like a millisecond. They part, and John brings his fingers to his lips, reveling in the feeling for a moment longer, like some stupid lovestruck teen from a romance novel. If Laurens is feeling dramatic, it’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He looks up because there was something there, sparks or whatever the fuck, surely he felt it too-

But Alex isn’t looking at him, and John watches as Alex forces a laugh, and the game continues.

It’s just a kiss, but somehow, it’s something so much worse.

 

* * *

 

The night moves on, Alex stays on the other side of the couch, and John’s silently begging that they’ll all stay over and they can just avoid the inevitable talk that they’ll have but well, nobody’s ever listened to John, especially not the universe.

“Goodnight!” Eliza hugs him as she steps out the door, the last one to leave. She leans up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, and John lowers his head because he’s praying for any kind of advice right now.

“I’m sorry about that whole… Situation, but talk to him, ok? It’ll work out, I promise.”

“Alright.” He believes the first part, but the second? He might just be being dramatic, but there’s no way this’ll work out nicely.

So Eliza leaves, the door closes, and they’re alone. John turns around and almost expects Alex to not be there, but he is there, staring at the ground, quiet in a way that Alexander really shouldn’t be.

Alex then smiles at him, but when John opens his mouth to speak, he turns and sprints down the hallway to his room, slamming the door. All is quiet.

Too quiet.

John once said that if nothing else, Alex’s smile was always going to be genuine. They’d be alright once he did. Alexander’s radiant, and his smile only emulates that fact. Maybe it was a little unhealthy, but it took just one of them to completely disarm John, throw him off balance. It was one of many constants, a law of the universe. _He smiles, we’re ok._

Now?

Standing there, in the empty hallway, in the too quiet apartment, he’s not so sure.

They’re alone, their friends will be miles away for a couple weeks, and John’s probably just made the dumbest mistake of his life.

 

* * *

 

Stupid.

It’s not a word often used to describe Alexander Hamilton-and when it is, it’s usually vehemently shut down because he isn’t stupid, he’s worked far too hard to be reduced to, ‘Stupid’. Yet, at this very moment, that’s all he can think of himself as.

Stupid.

_You should’ve seen the mistletoe. Laurens clearly didn’t want to kiss you and what did you do? Force him into kissing you, because you’re so goddamn desperate for his attention. Well, guess what, Hamilton? John’s a human being who doesn’t have to cater to your selfishness. You should’ve talked to him instead of running away like a goddamn idiot. Laughed it off, now you and your dramatic ass have turned this into a big deal. Stupid._

Alex groans into the pillow, turning over onto his side. Stupid thoughts. Stupid Hamilton. Y’know what? Life’s already fucking stupid. Let’s make tons of stupid decisions, add to the shitstorm that it already is. God, he needs a stress reliever, and he can’t even write because of how stupidly tired his mental state is.

Something physical then.

Alex plucks up his phone from the side table, scrolls through his contacts, and taps on one that he hasn’t in a while.

 

**Alex Hamilton: are you free tomorrow**

**John Andre: are you ok????**

**Alex Hamilton: andre i’m making a booty call i didn’t ask for emotional support**

**John Andre: fine i need to make out with someone too**

**Alex Hamilton: cool. your place at 5?**

**John Andre: mk**

 

Nobody ever said that Alexander Hamilton was good at making decisions.

 

* * *

 

It’s been a couple of days since John and Alex have talked, and the silence might as well murder John here and now. Alex has been disappearing to who knows where, and John hasn’t bothered asking, or looking. He comes home at night, and that’s what matters.  John doesn’t really have to worry. Just make videos, act like nothing’s wrong. He’s a responsible adult. Kind of. Fucking asshole doesn’t know his left from his right when he gets drunk.

But Alex hasn’t been going to the bar. Sure, some nights John’ll be sitting on the couch and Alex’ll come in, silently, and be a little unsteady on his feet. But he hasn’t been going to the bar, because if he was, he’d have his pockets filled with the saltines they have at the counter. So unless Alex is just being out of character, he’s going somewhere else. The library, whatever. He’s coming home, as John is doing himself right now. It’s been a long day, a long couple of days, and he wants nothing more than to pet his dog, talk to his stupid-asshole best friend and go to sleep.

Junior’s at the door when he steps in, as always.

“Hey, buddy.” John’s quiet as he scratches behind her ear, and he smiles as she wags her tail. Dogs are simple. They love you, unconditionally, as long as you treat them right. People? Not so much. People are fucking complicated, and John’s so tired of things just not being ok with Alex. Does kissing your best friend normally create these kinds of reactions? John wouldn’t know, the last time he kissed his best friend he, well.

_Another day. You’ve got too much on your plate, don’t you dare think about that right now. Get back on track._

Is he actually that repulsive? _Yes,_ a voice tells him, and he doesn’t have the heart to correct the truth.

Has Alex eaten today, though? Maybe he should check in. It might just be an excuse to see him, but John’s willing to try blood sacrifices at this point, just to get a step in the right direction with Alex. So quietly, he makes his way down the hall, opens the door to Alex’s room.

“Have you-”

There’s a yelp, and John looks up to see Alex and-is that John Andre? Some guy, whatever-in bed. Together. They’ve clearly been making out.

_Oh._

Panicking, he slams the door and sprints to the front door, grabbing his coat on the way. He doesn’t know where he’s going, just _anywhere but here._

* * *

 

 

There’s nothing special about kissing Andre. It is what it is, feels good, no strings attached with it. Sure, it’s been a while, but they’ve been blowing off steam like this since college, and it’s nothing they’re not both used to. Andre is, objectively, hot, and respects his boundaries and pronouns, so he’s less stressful than picking up some random at a club and being thrown onto the street for having the wrong genitals.

Tonight they’re at Alex’s apartment, if only because Andre’s been plagued by bedbugs, and neither of them would enjoy making out in a bedbug-infested apartment, nor would they like making out in Andre’s sister’s apartment, where he’s currently staying. So, the situation isn’t ideal, but it’s not like John’s gonna come in and see him anyway,

But of course, Alex is wrong, because the universe just _loves_ to apply Murphy’s Law to his life.

The door creaks open, and John’s voice floats through. “Have you-”

It stops. The entire world stops, just for a second. A pause in the infinite.

It starts again.

Alex leaps off of Andre, who’s grabbing for his shirt, but John’s already leaving, the front door slams and John’s leaving, leaving, _left._

He barely hears Andre, doesn’t quite register that he’s shaking Alex’s shoulder, because Laurens _left._

It’s Alex’s fault. Always has been.

_Here’s a memory: A conversation, on the road, sometime on an autumn morning, headed somewhere south. One he doesn’t quite remember, but knows what was said. You and I, do or die. I’m not leaving._

“Alex? Alex! Shit man, breathe, you’re gonna like-I don’t fucking know, I’m not a science man, just breathe in real slow, ok?” Snap. Andre’s voice shocks him back into the present, and it’s fucking hard to breathe, ok? He’s sucked back in.

_Another memory: two people, father and son, sitting on the kitchen floor. I know it’s hard, but breathe for me, mijo. He didn’t know before anyone else did, that title went to Rachel-but he understood. Understood first and foremost that he loved his children-no his sons, no matter what the world told him to do._

Snap.

Inhale, exhale, respirar.

Back to the present. Slower this time, just breathe.

Andre’s fiddling with his own fingers, waiting. Alex doesn’t bother explaining, because that takes words, and that’s exhausting, and his heart feels like someone’s twisted a knife into it. He gets it, anyway.

“Do you want me to go? My sister, she, yeah, usually wants me to leave her alone for a while after, um, I don’t know-not comparing you to my sister or anything, that’s gross, ew, um. Yeah.”

Andre trails off at the end. For all his suave-ness and care, Andre’s kind of shit at connecting to people, especially romantically. He’s aromantic, after all-not that being aromantic makes you inherently terrible at people skills, but Andre just didn’t know what to do if he didn’t know you very well.

“Yeah, um, you can go. I should probably text someone that isn’t so terrible at emotional support.” He goes for a grin and Andre nods, saluting as he stepped out the door. Alex hears the front door close, and he lets himself groan out loud.

_Fucking idiot. It’s not even that big of a deal, stop comparing your best friend to your-not-quite-shit-but-left-you dad. Tone down your abandonment issues._

God, he really needs to talk to someone.

* * *

 

Jesus Christ, Peggy's going to murder both of these idiots. She pinches the bridge of her nose, lets out a sigh. “So let me get this straight, after you and Laurens kissed, you freaked out and decided to fuck _John Andre_? Do you have a fucking John fetish or something, what the _hell_ Alex!”

Maybe she shouldn't be yelling at her potentially emotionally fragile friend, but she's trying to make him laugh-which she evidently succeeds in, as she hears a soft chuckle over the phone. _Score._

“We never fucked! Jesus Christ, Peggy, we were only making out!” _That doesn't make it any better, Alex, John the rat is probably running away to California as we speak because he and you both refuse to partake in any emotions ever._

“Ok, whatever. Either way, you fucked up by making out with Andre and John walked in on you, before sprinting out of the apartment because he has some sort of issue with y’all two making out. Is he not home yet?”

“This happened like, I dunno, I had a panic attack because of my stupid abandonment issues after he left, so I have no idea how long ago this happened, but no, he’s not home yet.”

She sighs at that, again, rolls her eyes. With all the carbon dioxide she's emitting, she's probably the sole cause of global warming at this point.

“Ok, when he gets home, talk to him without being a dramatic shit. Oh, and please, for the love of god, don’t do anything stupid.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“That’s because it feels like hell when you’re doing it, but really, you just had a conversation that required slightly more emotional effort than usual.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

There's a single knock-more pound like, really-and she hears Avery yell something about dinner before running down the hallway, Peggy's not really paying attention.

“Shut the fuck up and go get your mans, Hamilton. I gotta go eat. Cya later!” She hangs up, doesn't wait for Alex to say goodbye. Jesus, boys are stupid. Anyway. Time to eat.

 

* * *

 

Talk to him. Apologize. Put it behind you.

_Three steps. It’s that easy, Alex, don’t fuck this up._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'm debating on two different ways this can go we'll see
> 
> i'm not sorry about this
> 
> i think the greatest line i have ever written is, "i'm making a booty call andre i didn't ask for emotional support"
> 
> edit: nvm i just reread it for proofreading purposes and i think it's, "life's already stupid, let's make tons of stupid decisions."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's finally over... huff huff,,, the holidays are over and i have no.. proper deadlines... due to time constraints of the holiday season...
> 
>  
> 
> FUCK IT'S ALMOST VALENTINES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love you all have a lovely year (i say 9 days after the new years) and i hope you enjoy this piece of shit!!!

They say that the biggest war is the waiting. It rings true, especially for Alex-he can’t stand being on the backlines, just fiddling his thumbs and waiting for something to happen. He used to do that, a lot.

Wait for Dad to come home. Wait for the sickness to pass. Wait for the hurricane to be over. Wait for the dysphoria to be over. Wait until the right moment. Wait. wait,  _ waiting. _

It took a well placed seven sentences in yet another waiting season for him to get off his ass and start chasing for the change he wanted.

_ “Y’know, like, the world’s changing, right? Like, it always is, but dude. How the world changes? That’s up to you. I don’t even mean like the entire world man, it doesn’t have to be. It can just be your own, y’know? Like, stop waiting to get on your t whatever the fuck meds, man, it’s most definitely not a phase. Go get ‘em.” _

The conversation might have been in the ungodly hours of the morning, sitting in an alley with a black eye and a homeless guy that was high off his ass, and mentioned homeless guy might’ve thrown up on him ten minutes later, but the encounter had stuck with Alex. 

Yet here he was, again, waiting. 

Sometimes there’s nothing you can do but wait, no matter what you want to do about it. Waiting’s slow, minutes drag along as if they’re hours, the seconds between feeling like centuries. Which doesn’t make sense until you’re actually there, unable to concentrate on anything else because it’s gonna happen, any second now, and you have to be ready for it.

Tick, tock. There goes the clock, the only steady thing. 

Every thump out in the hallway sends him shooting up from the couch, only to realize that it’s not Laurens. Eventually, Junior joins him on the couch, curling under his palm, and Alex resigns himself to stay still, in favor of not disturbing her. _ Stupid dog. No wait, I love Junior. Inconvenient at this moment but still loved dog.  _

Wow, that doesn’t sound familiar or anything.

The lock clicks, the door opens, and Alex forces himself to stay on the couch, he’s not going to run to John. Because Alexander is not a five year old, because of what might happen. Junior runs though, and he finds himself jealous of her for the first time in a while. By a while, he means barely a month, but alas, the dog is allowed to openly love John Laurens, and Alexander is not. It’s not completely unreasonable.

He hears John softly greet her, and Alex forces himself to turn around on the couch, watch them both. John’s head is turned away from the couch, refusing to look at him. That’s ok. The two of them look peaceful, just an owner returning to their dog for the night. Their little family.

If only.

_ Talk to him, and don’t’ fuck this up. _

“Hey.” Is all he can manage, the words clumped in his throat, because this can go wrong so many ways, and he doesn’t want it to. When do you ever? John freezes at the noise, and it’s already gone to shit, hasn’t it?    


It takes a minute for John to respond.

“Hey.” With that, it’s as if he’s unfroze himself, and John finally turns around fully, faces Alexander- _ have his eyes always been that green? Oh wait, speaking of his eyes, is that a shiner? _ -and it’s then that Laurens picks himself off the floor, pads over to the couch and plops down next to him.  _ Motherfucker, getting into fights and shit. Making this look easy. _

It takes a minute, but Alex can’t stand the silence anymore. It’s his stupid fault they’re in this mess anyway, and honestly, he just wants it to be normal again. It’s almost Christmas, the most wonderful time of year or some bullshit like that, and they should be happy, and if not that at least ok, goddamnit.

“Look, I’m really sorry about-about the past few days. It’s totally my fault that I didn’t see the mistletoe and I take responsibility for that, we, we had an agreement. Also, we totally should’ve had this conversation a couple days ago, like, y’know? Yeah. And uh, I don’t know why you ran out because I was kissing Andre, and the reason I was kissing Andre is a whole other story but anyway, uh, I apologize. Sincerely.” The words, stuck in his throat, come out as a mess, but it’s at least understandable. A small victory. 

“Oh, um. Ok, that’s a lot to unpack. I mean, it wasn’t totally your fault, I’m taller than you, can see the ceiling a whole lot better,” Alex has to wrinkle his nose at that, it’s automatic. “and also, I’ve just been… Thinking, a lot. Like, it was just a kiss, after all,”  _ Fuck you Laurens for being beautiful, that kiss was everything _ .

“But then you pushed me away, and, just… Am I that terrible that you don’t want any sort of contact with me?” Something cracks in his chest at that, the _ hurt _ in John’s voice, and Alex opens his mouth to say no, of course not,  _ you idiot _ -but John raises his hand, keeps 

“Don’t answer that. Anyway, you pushed me away, only to kiss, who was that, John Andre? I’m not saying I’m better than Andre but just… Whatever. Is that where you’ve been going? Like, why are you… Doing that with him anyway?” 

Hell, John’s tone isn’t even that accusatory, and Alex is fucking prepared to hug the shit out of Laurens after this is over, but he can’t help but raise his voice in defense of himself, because everything about this conversation  _ hurts,  _ and it’s just so much  _ easier _ to be angry.

There’s a tiny demon in his head, screaming a war chant.  _ Fuck it up! Fuck it up! Fuck it up! Do exactly the opposite of what you’ve been telling yourself to do! _

“Laurens, I can do whatever the hell I want, with whoever the hell I want, and you don’t get to police that.” John’s eyebrows crinkle at that, a flash passes over his eyes. Honestly, Alex didn’t expect anything else. It’s in their blood to fight it out.

“Well, my deepest apologies, Hamilton, for being vaguely uncomfortable at the fact that you’re fucking someone under our roof, and knowing you, possibly being irresponsible about it.” 

Good. This, he knows. The sharpness in their voices, the sneers, the sarcasm. This, he can handle.

“We’ve never even gone that far, jesus! What’s it to ya, anyway? You have no right to feel uncomfortable, as if you can police me into being your perfect little sex-free roommate. I’m allowed to do whoever and whatever I’d like, my name is also on that lease.” The nerve of him, honestly.

Actually, that’s not what Alex is particularly bothered by, but it’s not as if it’s easy to say what he’s actually bothered by-that he was so scared of a fucking kiss, so scared of losing John over something that’s been established as nothing. Alex continues.

“Plus, you’d think I’d be irresponsible with something like this? You make me laugh, it’s like you don’t know me at all! Fuck you, John!”   


“Fuck you!”

“What time?” The response to that sentence is automatic, he’s not really paying attention at this point, too busy drafting up some answer, but when it does register that he just said that,  _ oh my god _ , Alex claps his hands over his mouth. _ Are you fucking kidding me? _

But then?

Then, John starts laughing. It starts off as a little chuckle, crescendos until he’s absolutely roaring his head off, and he’s so alive, head leaned forward, ever so slightly, cheeks crinkles into a smile that’s gotta hurt his black eye, but he’s still laughing, and it’s beautiful.

Then it sets off Alex, because they’re such idiots. Two boys, old enough to be but not mature enough to be men, laughing their heads off in the living room over a stupid fight.

The best part may be that for the first time in a while, the apartment?   
  
_ It’s not so quiet. _

It’s also not over. But that’s ok. Laurens is kinda worth long, emotionally draining conversations. Just a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these boys are idiot and i want them to get together but i am stopping myself why is that??? who knows
> 
> this is short and alex is idiotic but they'll be ok. happy almost end of the holiday season!!

**Author's Note:**

> this is a christmas fic because i celebrate christmas but happy holidays to all :) also comment down below in favor of the holiday spirit!!! i live off of them
> 
> if you're wondering about the beginning of the chapter where peggy's family members are very racist despite being korean, no, i'm not implying that all koreans are racist. i'm korean, was born in korea, have korean parents, etc. but there is a lot of anti-blackness in asian communities and i just had to tell it like it is, y'know?


End file.
